Renaissance
by Gold Scribbles
Summary: AU: Is it still a sin if God is wrong? Lucius Malfoy procures Hermione Granger as a companion for his ten year-old son. Mod's Choice at the Dramione Couples Remix Fest. Draco x Hermione
1. Part I

******Disclaimer:**_ Harry Potter_ belongs to JK Rowling in association with Scholastic Books, Warner Bros, etc.

**Author's Note:** This was written for the Round 4 Dramione Remix on LiveJournal with the prompt Adam and Eve. I was inspired to write this because of the lovely song "Skyfall" by Adele. A million thanks to my beta, captainraychill on LiveJournal, for helping me with this story! Please let me know what you think.

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**Part I  
**

**xxx**

_In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. He separated sky from land and land from sea. He then brought light to the world, chasing away the darkness and chaos. He populated the world with plants and animals and saw that it was good. At last, He created man in His own image out of dust and dirt and named him Adam. _

_Adam was placed in the Garden of Eden, and while he had dominion over all things there, God warned him to never eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. Adam heeded God's word and tended to the Garden. In time, Adam asked God for a companion like him. God then put Adam into a deep sleep and created woman, Eve, out of Adam's rib. The two lived happily, until the day the serpent slithered its way into Paradise and tempted Eve with the forbidden. _

_And Eve, impressionable Eve, plucked the fruit and ate it. _

_Then she gave it to Adam, who also ate it. _

_When God found out, He punished them severely, taking away their immortality and casting them out of Eden. And though both ate from the fruit, only Eve bore the weight of Man's fall from Grace, for it was she who dragged Adam down with her. Thus, every woman since Eve has carried that same burden of guilt. _

_So the story goes._

_One version of it, at least._

**xxx**

"What is that, Father?" Draco peered around his father's imposing figure at the huddled figure. It had a large volume of thick, bushy hair obscuring its features. "Have you brought me a pet?"

"Very astute, Draco. This little thing will be yours to pass the time with however you wish," Lucius declared, prodding the figure with his cane. It flinched away, but slowly scurried out to the light. Draco was startled to see a dusty face underneath the thick cloud of hair.

"It's a girl! But why is she so dirty? I thought it was some sort of animal."

"You were right in thinking that, my son." Lucius gestured to the girl with distaste. "She is a Muggle. I found her wandering outside one of the magical portals separating our worlds. It seems she has no family. Remember what I told you about Muggles?"

"Yes. They are beneath people like us," Draco stated, lifting his nose in the air with a jerk of his head.

"Very good, indeed. However, you must have something to pass the time when I am away on business, and with your mother's delicate condition, I don't want you barging in while she is resting. This girl will have to do until we can find you a proper playmate." He turned to the girl at his feet with a stern glare. "You will do well to remember what we discussed if you don't want to be thrown out. Don't forget that you can be easily replaced."

The girl nodded meekly, trying hard to take up as little space as possible.

"Dobby!" Lucius summoned. A loud pop echoed in the cavernous room as the house-elf appeared, cowering before his master. "Get this girl cleaned up thoroughly. I will not have my son catching any diseases."

Dobby nodded timidly and grabbed the girl. She shrieked in fear and tried to jerk away, but Dobby pulled her along, trying to placate her. Draco watched as the two of them left the room before turning to his father with a pout. "I'd rather have a dragon."

"We already have a little dragon roaming around these parts, don't we?" He placed his hand on Draco's head. His son preened at the attention. Lucius smiled. "This little dragon must grow strong and wise in order to protect his land. He doesn't want any other dragons sniffing around his possessions now, does he?"

"No!"

"Of course not. But he is still small and has a lot of learning to do, so off he goes to his room to study. Your tutors will arrive within the hour, and I want to hear nothing but good things about your performance tonight."

Draco straightened up and said, "Yes, Father," before marching back to his room.

**xxx**

After dinner, Lucius left for a business trip, and Draco returned to his room to find the girl hovering over the books left open on his desk. She jumped away when she heard the door open and quickly moved closer to the corner wall. He was a bit put out that she was in his room, but since she was his pet now, he supposed she had no other place to go. She couldn't stay in a guestroom because she wasn't a guest, and the servant quarters were for house-elves only. Letting out an irritated sigh, he puffed out his chest and lifted his chin the way his father did when dealing with lesser beings.

"What were you doing, Muggle?" he asked. "Do you think you can touch my things without permission?"

"No, sir," she said quietly, staring at the ground.

Draco puffed his chest out even more, pleased with the way she addressed him. It was how most people spoke to his father, too. "You will always address me that way, understood?" She nodded. "Good. What is your name?"

"Hermione."

"No last name?" he asked, suspiciously. Her lips trembled, but she shook her head resolutely. "Well, it doesn't matter. What were you doing looking at my work books?"

"I was just reading—"

"You can read?" Draco interrupted, genuinely surprised.

"Well, of course I can read," she said with a bit of temper. "I'm not stupid."

"But you're a Muggle," he pointed out.

"Muggle?"

"Non-magical people are Muggles," he explained with a scoff. "And you said you're not stupid."

Her face turned bright red, and she looked away.

"Would you like to sleep on the floor or on a bed?" he asked, lowering his chin and relaxing his chest. It was hard to keep that posture for so long. He would need to practice more.

"A bed, please."

"Dobby!" A loud crack split the air, causing her to jump. Draco sent her an annoyed glare before speaking to his house-elf. "My pet needs a bed to sleep in. Put it in the corner next to the bookshelves."

"Of course, Master Draco." Dobby snapped his fingers and a single bed appeared out of thin air. It matched the décor of the room with its green blanket and its dark wood frame.

Satisfied, Draco turned to the girl. "Go on, now. It's time for bed. Tomorrow will be a busy day." Once he was sure that she was properly tucked in, he retreated to his own bed and instantly fell asleep, exhausted but pleased with his new responsibility.

**xxx**

The next day, Draco showed his pet the grounds and set specific rules for her to follow: don't touch the doors with the blackened knobs; don't eat the poisoned berries growing on the bushes; don't wander off into the maze.

"You could die in there before we find you," he explained.

"Why do you grow poisoned things here?" she asked.

"And this is the most important rule of all," he pressed on, ignoring her question, "don't go into the west wing of the manor." He looked her in the eye to impress this point on her. "My mother is sick, and she can't be disturbed. If I catch you wandering around there, you're going to be punished."

She nodded, body slightly hunched over. Draco noticed that she did that occasionally. When he asked, she denied that anything was wrong. He figured it must be a Muggle thing to have such poor posture.

"Well, I have my tutor coming over now." He led her back inside and stopped outside the main study. "You can do whatever you want, but you have to stay inside the manor." He slammed the door behind him before she had a chance to speak.

**xxx**

After his lessons, Draco went looking for his pet. He checked the kitchen, the library, his bedroom, but she wasn't there. He even went outside in the rain to see if she had disobeyed his order to stay inside. Fed up, he called his house-elf to find her.

"Where is my Muggle?" he demanded.

"Dobby believes she is in the master bedroom."

"Why is she there?" Draco bellowed. "I told her not to go there!" Not waiting for an answer, he rushed over and threw the doors to the master bedroom open. Sure enough, Hermione stood by the bed, quietly nodding at something his mother was saying to her.

"What did I tell you about disturbing my mother?" Draco roared. "Get away from her now!"

She jumped away, startled, and looked at him. Her face was wet and red from crying. "I-I…"

"Draco, darling, please don't slam the doors." His mother's wispy voice caught his attention, and he hurried to the spot where his pet had previously stood by the bed.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he said contritely. ""I told her not to come in here."

"So it's true then? This Muggle girl is yours?" Narcissa asked, lifting a thin, pale hand to stroke her son's head affectionately. "I couldn't believe it when she told me your father brought her here. You must be so very lonely for your father to take such drastic measures."

He shrugged, looking away. "It's not so bad. I'm fine, now."

"Darling, you must remember to care for this girl. She is your responsibility and under your protection. Muggle though she may be, she is doing us a service. I cannot get out of bed most days and keep you company. She will have to do for now until I am better again."

"Yes, Mother," Draco said, sensing the slight reprimand in her words.

Narcissa slowly lowered her hand back to the bed and burrowed deeper under the covers. Her foggy blue eyes lingered on him. "Dear boy, you don't visit me enough."

"Father told me not to bother you. You need your rest."

"Nonsense. A mother always has time for her son." Her eyes closed tightly as a coughing fit struck her. "But I find myself tired already."

"Sleep, Mother." Draco pulled the covers up and tucked it around her.

"Be good, Draco." With an exhausted sigh, Narcissa fell asleep.

Furious, Draco grabbed his pet by the arm and yanked her out of the room. "Stupid Muggle! I told you not to come to this part of the manor."

"I-I didn't know. This place is so big, I got lost," she said, trying to keep up with his fast pace. Soon, they were back in his bedroom in the east wing.

"Why didn't you call Dobby then?"

"He doesn't answer to me." A gurgling sound drew his attention to her hunched figure. "Please, sir. I'm very hungry. I was trying to find the kitchen. I haven't eaten at all since I've been here."

He glared at her. "No. You didn't follow the rules, so you won't eat anything today. That is your punishment."

Her face crumpled, and it made him even angrier to watch her lips tremble. He wasn't being mean. He told her there would be consequences, and she didn't listen. It was her fault and he didn't care. Suddenly, she turned around and ran out the door. Startled, he chased after her, wondering what mess this wild creature would create now.

"Muggle, where are you going? Get back here!"

She didn't answer, only flung the doors to the garden open and darted outside into the pouring rain. He hesitated, wondering if he could attempt to cast the new spell he'd learn that kept water off of his clothes but decided against it. It had taken him several attempts before he got it right, and that was with guidance. There was no time for him to fret over wet clothes. The girl was running blind; she'd probably end up in the maze if he didn't stop her in time. If she did, he'd be alone again, with no one but the paintings for company. Letting out a frustrated noise, he rushed outside. He was soaked to the bones within seconds. Squinting through the rain and gray, he caught a jerky movement by the grove of trees and ran towards it. He spotted her on one of the branches, reaching for a fruit.

"Muggle, get down from there!" he ordered, wondering how she had managed to climb up the tallest tree.

"Make me!" She hurled an apple core down, and it smacked him on the head.

"Ow! You rude, vile thing. My father will hear about this, and he'll kick you out for sure." When she didn't respond, he thought she couldn't hear him over the hissing rain. "Did you hear me, Muggle?" he shouted louder. "I said he'd kick you out!"

"Fine! I don't care. At least I'll be away from you!" A pear core was thrown this time, but he was able to duck out of the way.

Her words, however, struck him directly in the chest. She'd rather be homeless on the streets than stay with him? It was unfathomable. His parents always told him what a delight he was, and the portraits echoed their praises daily. How could this Muggle not feel the same way? How could _he_ not be good enough for her to stay?

"Come down right now or I'll lock to doors and you can stay out here all night!" he threatened once more.

A few moments passed before she climbed down, landing on her hands and knees when she jumped from the lowest branch with an apple in her mouth. Her wet hair had several leaves stuck in it. After wiping her hands on her dirty clothes, she reached for the apple and took a hearty, defiant bite out of it.

Draco scowled at her, but hustled her indoors to get them out of the rain. Once inside, he quickly spelled his clothes and hair dry. Sparing a glance at her, he was surprised by how small she suddenly appeared. Her voluminous cloud of hair hung limply down her shoulders and stuck to her face. Her wet clothes also stuck to her body, showing off her painfully thin frame.

"I should leave you shivering in your shoes," he muttered angrily. With a wave of his wand, she was dry again, her hair flying back into its usual bushy state. Surprise crossed her face as she carefully patted her clothes, marveling at the lack of moisture in them. "Well?" he snapped. "Let's get back to my room and warm up by the fireplace." He walked away without looking to see if she had followed. The reluctant fall of footsteps behind him brought a relieved smile to his face.

After settling her down in front of the fire with a blanket wrapped around her, Draco lifted his chin in a practiced manner and sneered at her. "I hope you've learned your lesson. You acted stupidly just now. Running in the rain is something only animals do."

Her eyes harden with anger. Instead of answering, she deliberately took another bite of the fruit.

"You must promise me not to do something that stupid again," he said.

"I won't," she said, standing up so that they were eye level. "If there's food outside, I'm going to get it. You can't stop me."

"That's ridiculous," he said furiously. "There's plenty inside the manor."

"You said I wasn't allowed to eat it," she shouted. "You were being mean so I went out and found food on my own. You never said I couldn't touch the trees." She held up the apple like a trophy.

"Well, I'm telling you now that you can't eat it!" He tried to knock it out of her hand, but she jerked it behind her back.

"You can't do that. I _need_ to eat."

"Maybe you should've followed my instructions in the first place."

She let out a frustrated scream and lurched forward, as if she intended to strike him. Startled, he stumbled back several feet before standing his ground.

"I was trying to find the kitchen! I told you that I got lost. Your house is huge. I didn't mean to disturb your mother." To his horror, her eyes filled with tears and spilled down her face. "You don't know what it's like to go days without eating and then be in a place with tons of food that someone forbade you to touch. I don't care if you believe me or not, but I'm not going to let you starve me to death!"

"Hey, just hold on," Draco protested. "Who said I wanted to starve you? If I wanted to get rid of you, I would've left you out in the rain to freeze. But I didn't do that now, did I? I take care of my things, Muggle, and you're one of them now."

"And another thing! I'm not a _thing_ or a _Muggle_. I'm a _person_ and my name is _Hermione_."

"I know that," Draco said.

"Then use my name when you're talking to me!" she demanded hotly, leaning over him with anger written all over her face.

"Okay, fine!" Draco relented with a scowl. "You can't break the rules without being punished, _Hermione_."

"I didn't do it on purpose! How can you punish me for that? How can you hold something like food over my head? I need it to live."

"You're being dramatic." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Says the person who's probably never gone a day without missing a meal! Why don't you give it a try and see how you like being hungry? I _dare_ you to skip dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. We'll see how well you fare."

"Why should I?"

"Scared?" she taunted.

"I'm not scared of anything! I'll do it and show you how a Malfoy handles challenges," he said, puffing out his chest.

By dinner time however, he was wallowing in his bed, clutching his cramping stomach. He figured out quickly that if he didn't move too much, his stomach wouldn't hurt as badly. The tightness in his throat was a different matter altogether. He swallowed, trying to get some moisture in his mouth, and his stomach gurgled in response.

Groaning, he curled up tighter, wishing he could just sleep and forget the hunger. The bed dipped and he looked up to see the reason he was in this situation to begin with.

"How are you feeling?" she asked with a smug grin and damp hair.

He cleared his throat. "I'm perfectly fine. What are you doing on my bed?"

"Enjoying this apple." She pulled out a shiny red apple from her pocket.

Anger rushed over him. "I told you not to go outside again! It's after dark and you still went out in the rain for that stupid fruit?"

His reply startled her. "No, I didn't. I got this apple this afternoon. It's been in my pocket the whole time."

"Oh really? Then why is your hair wet?" he asked skeptically.

"I just finished bathing." She tilted her head as she looked at him. "This is not what I thought you would be upset about."

He narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She took a bite out of the apple. His stomach instantly gurgled, causing him to color with embarrassment.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" she said softly.

"It's not so bad," he denied. "I've been through worse things."

"Like what?"

"None of your business," he snapped, unwilling to let her see how miserable he really felt. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Then she did something he didn't expect. She held the apple out to him. "Take it."

"You don't think I can last, do you? Well, I'll show you." With great effort, he turned his body around to face the other side. "Keep your stupid apple. I can do this."

He heard her sigh and felt her weight lift from the bed. He bit his lip to keep from calling her back, to stop himself from summoning Dobby for his dinner, or worse, to keep from asking for her apple. Instead, he firmly kept still and comforted himself with the thought of how great it would be when he came out victorious.

The bed dipped again, this time on the other side and he looked up to see her there, apple in her hand. "That's not what I think at all." She held it out to him once again. "I'm sure you can last without food until tomorrow's lunch. But why should you be miserable when there's something to eat right in front of you? I don't _really_ want you to be hungry. I just wanted you to know how it felt, how _I_ felt, being hungry and being told that I couldn't do anything about it."

She made that point painfully clear. He wasn't able to resist it this time. "You bit out of it," he mumbled, holding onto the last shred of dignity he had.

"Oh, just eat it, you big baby." She pushed it against his lips. He had taken a huge bite out of it before he could stop himself. His hand came up and covered her hand, holding the apple in place as he ate.

"Let go. You can feed yourself." She tried to pull away, but he held on tightly, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes at him, but he watched in shock as her lips curved and parted to reveal her teeth.

She was _smiling_ at him. It felt astonishingly good.

Slowly, Draco pushed himself up in bed and allowed her to pull away, catching the apple in his hand. He gave her a considering look. "Dobby!" A splitting crack echoed through the room. "I want you to bring dinner now. Two servings." He caught her stunned expression as he continued, "Also, I want you to know that Hermione will be eating with me in the dining room from now on. If she can't eat there, you will bring her three meals daily wherever she is. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Draco frowned. "Well? Where's our dinner?" Dobby snapped his fingers. Instantly there was a spread of mouth-watering dishes and honey-sweet drinks on a large wooden tray between them on the bed. Draco didn't pay any mind to the hesitation on her face and gestured for her to eat. "What are you waiting for? Pick up your fork and eat."

Hermione tentatively picked up a midsized fork. "I don't know where to begin," she admitted. Her voice sounded thick to him, so he told her to drink the butterbeer to clear her throat. She took a sip, but touched nothing else.

"Just eat. I promise everything is delicious," he said, exasperated.

Finally, she took a small bite out of the moist chicken, and then another, and then another, until it was completely gone. Satisfied, Draco tucked into his own meal. At one point, he became aware of her shaky hands and looked at her. To his horror, she was crying silently; her small body shaking with the effort to contain her sobs.

"What's wrong?" he demanded. "Don't you like it?" She nodded her head once and then shook her head, leaving him even more confused. "What does that mean?"

"I'm sorry," she squeaked out in between hiccups. "It's just been so long since I've eaten anything so good."

"So you _cry?_" he asked. "Next time, I'm going to give you nothing but cold porridge and raisins."

She laughed loudly through her tears. "Thanks, Draco."

They celebrated their new truce by stuffing their faces full of desserts, and later took turns throwing most of it up in the toilet when they developed stomachaches.

All in all, Draco couldn't have been happier with his new friend.

**xxx**

As the months passed by, Draco noticed that Hermione was especially fond of reading. She was so insatiably curious about everything, that she would devour piles of books in a week. On one hand, it frustrated him because she wouldn't want to do fun things with him like go flying or play exploding snaps. She tried to make up for it by telling him stories about what life was like without magic. While that was entertaining, he didn't want to sit around all day talking about ridiculous things like_ electricity_ or _cars_.

On the other hand, this made getting her a gift for the holidays incredibly easy. When Christmas Day arrived, he spent the morning in the master bedroom with his parents, opening presents and eating breakfast in bed. Afterwards, he rushed back to his room to give Hermione her gift. She sat by the fire with a book in one hand and a half-eaten peach in the other.

"Look at the new broom Father bought me!" he crowed, holding up the shiny new broomstick. "It's the fastest model yet."

"Have you read this book yet, Draco? Because if you have, I think we should talk about it once I finish reading it. There are some things I don't understand," she said, not bothering to pull her nose out of the book.

He pouted. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, it's quite a nice broom." She flipped the page, her attention completely enraptured by the text.

Annoyed, Draco pulled out a neatly wrapped book from beneath his cloak. "I guess you're not interested in your present then."

Her head snapped up. "I have a present?" she asked with wide, disbelieving eyes. Faster than he could blink, she closed the book and scrambling in front of him. "Really, I do?"

"Well, of course you do. It's Christmas," Draco said, pleased that she was focused on him now. "Here you are."

"Thank you!" She carefully took off the wrapping paper so that it didn't tear, making him even more impatient to see her reaction. "Oh, it's a book!"

"Not just any book," he added, sticking out his chest. "It's my family's history book. Look, even I'm in it." He flipped the book open to the last page. Sure enough, there he was, fussing and preening in the photo. He looked at her, his smile slowly falling away when he saw the small frown on her face. "What's the matter? You don't like it?"

"No, it's nice. It's just, well, your father doesn't seem to like me very much."

"What are you talking about? He brought you here, didn't he?"

"Yeah, for you to play with. Whenever he's here, I have to stay in your room so he doesn't see me."

"That's not true," Draco sputtered.

"I'm not stupid. I know that's why I'm not allowed out of your room." She scrunched up her face and looked away. "A lot of the paintings in your house don't like me either. They always say I'm unworthy and terrible, even when I don't do anything." She closed the book and slowly traced the intricate M embossed on the cover. "I just think I know enough about how your family feels about people like me."

Draco's face heated up. He didn't know how to respond. It was the first time he had ever given anyone a gift, and _this_ was her reaction? "Fine, don't take it." He snatched it away and stomped off to his bed, carefully putting it away on his drawer.

"Don't be mad. It was a nice idea. Thank you for thinking about me."

"Some thanks," he muttered under his breath.

"Why did you want to give me your family book, anyway?" she asked.

"I wasn't _giving_ it to you. I was letting you read it to learn more about how great my family is and how special you are to be allowed to stay here."

Her eyes narrowed. "Be nice, Draco, or I won't tell you a story today."

"As if I care about your stupid Muggle things," he scoffed. Nevertheless, he sat down on the rug in front of the fire and crossed his legs, waiting for her to join him. He clapped his hands twice and a tray full of food appeared. "Well?" He looked at her impatiently. "What is it this time? Fellytones?"

"They're called _telephones_." She sat across from him, tapping her chin with a finger in thought. "What about how we think everything started?" Draco heaved a long, suffering sigh but showed that he was listening. "Well, the story is, one day God created everything: the moon, the stars, the sun, and the Earth. Then, He made the first man out of dirt and called him Adam. Later, He made the first woman, Eve, from Adam's rib."

"Wait." Draco held up his hands, swallowing the last of his sandwich. "So according to your people, boys are made from _dirt_ and girls are made from _dirt bones?_"

"Well, some people think that."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Are you one of those people?"

"No."

"Good," he said, nodding his head. "I can't speak to someone who believes such stupid things."

"It is a little silly when you think about it. But I read a book a long time ago that said people came from monkeys, and I believe that."

"You think we came from _monkeys?_" He shook his head in disgust. "You're obviously not reading the right books."

She shot him an impatient glare. "You're one to talk. I just read that your kind thinks people came from _stardust_."

"Because we _did._"

"The story _goes,_" she continued loudly in a tone that left no room for argument, "that Adam and Eve could do whatever they wanted in the Garden of Eden, except eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. One day, a snake snuck into the garden and convinced Eve to eat from the tree and—"

"So she was a Parselmouth?" Draco perked up. "That's interesting."

"Parsel-what?"

"She could talk to snakes."

"Um, I guess?"

"Huh," he said, leaning back on his hands. "I guess we do have some things in common after all."

"Anyway," she said, glaring at him, "Eve gave the fruit to Adam to eat. When God found out, He threw them out of Eden onto Earth. That's why we're here."

"What a terrible story."

Hermione frowned. "You're a terrible audience today."

"I'm serious. That's the whole story?"

"Yes."

A thoughtful look appeared on his face. "I think you should make it better."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. You're the storyteller. Change it. Make Eve suffer all by herself. It's not Adam's fault she made him eat the stupid thing."

"That's not how it works," she huffed.

"How boring." Draco stood and dusted the crumbs off his robes. "Let's do something fun."

She hesitated. "Is your father still here?"

He shook his head. "He left a little while ago. Want to watch me ride my new broom? Of course you do. Let's go!" Grabbing her hand, he dragged her out into the field near the gardens.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

**xxx**

_Another book will tell you a little more about the story._

_It will tell you of how God wanted someone to worship Him and to marvel at His power. This was why He created Man in the first place. True to his purpose, Adam revered God for giving him life and viewed Eden as an endless paradise given to him as a sign of God's favor. However, Adam only had other mated animals for company and grew lonely. He asked God for a companion of his own, and so Eve was created._

"She is blood and flesh of your own. Thus she is a part of you, and you of her," God decreed. "There is no more perfect union than yours."

"Thank you for your endless generosity," Adam said, marveling at his beautiful companion.

Eve slowly, silently, explored the curves of her body and the length of her voluminous hair as though to assure herself that she was whole. Her hand smoothed over her neck and rested there.

So the years passed and Adam was happy. Eve never spoke, but he didn't mind. She understood him, and her mere presence kept the loneliness at bay. One day, she came to him with a half-bitten fruit. Taking her offer, he ate the rest. Once he finished, he realized, to his horror, he had eaten from the Tree of Knowledge.

"Why did you disobey Him?" he asked her.

"He created me without a voice. I could not talk without eating the fruit," she replied.

"But why would you give it to me to eat?"

"We have always done everything together. Why should this be different? If there is a punishment, we must endure it as one."

And so they did. God, in all His fury, threw them out of Paradise. Adam felt as though the sky was falling as he left his beloved garden and his revered Creator to be with his beautiful, deceitful Eve in the cold, strange world outside.

**xxx**

Years later, Draco became aware that he divided his life into two stages: before and after Hermione.

Before her, time was a waiting game: waiting for his father to return from business; waiting for his mother to be well enough to play with him; waiting for the day he turned sixteen so he could be properly inducted into high society as a man.

After her, time no longer moved at a snail's pace, crawling by with little to do. One minute, he's ten years old trying to convince Hermione to fly with him, and the next minute, it was the morning of his first gala.

"I don't understand why you want me to go to a stuffy old party," Hermione said, munching on a bowl of pomegranate seeds. "It's not like I'll fit in or anything."

Sunlight peeked through the gray clouds, and shone down on them. They sat in the garden underneath the fruit tree she had climbed the stormy night of their first fight. He'd given it to her on their first Christmas together after she rejected his initial gift. He told her she was allowed to eat from the tree whenever she wished, so that she would never be hungry again. Hermione had been much more receptive to this gift, going as far as to agree to go flying with him. Afterwards, they both agreed that she would permanently stay on the ground for the sake of her vocal chords and his ear drums.

Draco sat a few feet away from her, legs stretched out on the grass with one ankle hooked over one of hers. He waved his wand lazily, directing the movement of a feather that had fallen from his pet eagle owl as it cleaned its feathers while perched on a branch above them.

"Exactly. I'll need you for entertainment purposes." He floated the feather under her nose and wiggled it teasingly. "I can brag about having my very own Muggle. How many of the other families can say that?"

She batted the feather away. "This _Muggle_ helped you perfect your wand work, you ungrateful git."

"Did you now?" he pondered, twirling his wand. "That doesn't seem possible, being as it involves _magic_ and all."

"It's quite possible, since apparently you need the ability to _read_ in order to make any sort of advancement. You might want to work your way up from picture books, Draco."

"I can read perfectly fine. For instance, I can read the envy on your face whenever I perform the simplest of spells."

She scoffed. "Envy? More like worry that you'll botch something up again, and I'll suffer because of it. Don't think I've forgotten how you made my front teeth grow past my chin."

"It was an honest mistake. Besides, I think we shrunk them down to just the right size. You should be thanking me for your perfect little smile." He noticed her nearly empty bowl and with a quick swish of his wrist, a ripe pomegranate floated down from the tree and broke apart. It shook its seeds out into her bowl before falling on the grass.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "It's still hard to believe, even after all this time. I'll never understand how you do that."

"And I'll never understand how you can't do it."

"I'm not magical, remember?"

"That's worse than being _poor_."

Her smile faded immediately, and she narrowed her eyes at his matter-of-fact tone. "Get off me." She kicked his foot off of her and scooted away, making sure she was out of his immediate reach.

He laughed. "Oh, come on. It doesn't apply to you anymore. If you haven't noticed, I'm rich and that makes you rich, too."

"Until you decide that you don't want me around anymore. No pureblood in his right mind would want to be around Muggles, isn't that right?" She turned her scathing glare on him. "At least that's what your father says every time he's home. He's been trying to get rid of me since the day he realized you like my company."

"Hermione," Draco said placatingly, "_if_ by some miracle I come to my senses and cut you loose, I would never throw you out on the streets with nothing to your name. I take care of my own. You'd never have to work a day in your life."

"You don't get it. I don't fear being poor. I'm angry you think you're better than other people, that you think you're better than me. Don't you _dare_ make a joke right now," she warned him. "I'm serious. I honestly can't stand that about you."

"It's hardly my fault I was born into this life," he said defensively.

"It's your fault for holding such horrible views. I wouldn't be surprised if you tossed me aside once you're at the gala and finally meet some proper girls. Your father would throw a party for that day alone, I'm sure."

Draco frowned. "Watch your tone. That's my father you're talking about. I don't understand how you can be so ungrateful." She bit her lip and looked away, stuffing a handful of pomegranate seeds in her mouth. "You're fed and dressed better than most people in the world because you're under the protection of the Malfoy name."

"Don't be so naïve," she snapped. "I'm only under _your_ care. Once you're engaged, I don't expect to stay here a minute more."

"You want to leave?" he asked, strangely hurt by the thought. "Just because I'll be getting married?"

"I hardly think your wife would want another woman around her husband all the time."

"But you're not a bird. You're my friend." He watched that familiar surprise cross her face, as if she still couldn't believe he considered her in that light. It never failed to bother him. "Well? You are, aren't you?"

A faint smile touched her lips, and he could see the starch leave her spine. "I thought I was a Muggle," she teased.

Draco found himself smiling in return and scooted over so that they sat side by side, pressed against each other. "No, I definitely recall you saying that you were a _Hermione_. I'm pretty sure there's only one of those in the world, and I've got you right here. How lucky is that?"

She elbowed him lightly. "Smooth, Draco. Real smooth."

"So you'll go to the gala?"

"Yes, fine. You've twisted my arm enough," she relented with a sigh.

"Excellent. There's a rack of dresses in your room for you to choose from." He beamed at her incredulous expression. "Did you really think you could say no to this face?" He pointed at himself for emphasis.

She buried her face in her hands. "I can't even look at you."

"Good. You need to go to your room and pick out a dress. I've arranged for someone to handle that bird's nest on your head." He touched her wild, thick hair, looking over it with a critical eye. "I'm hopeful she can get it under control, but who knows if your hair is actually fixable even with magic."

As it turned out though, magic could fix her hair.

The gala was in full swing with champagne flowing and people dancing to the live band. He had been speaking with Pansy Parkinson, the girl his father had picked to be his future wife, when a golden figure caught his attention.

His jaw dropped. It was Hermione.

She wore a dark gold dress with off-shoulder sleeves that glimmered in the candlelight. Her hair was pinned to the side and fell over one bare shoulder in a tumble of sleek dark curls. Someone had lined her eyes black, emphasizing their slight tilt, and painted her lips red, drawing attention to the curve of her cupid's bow.

"Draco, are you listening to me?" Pansy turned around to see what had pulled his interest away from her. "Who is that girl?"

"I have no idea," he breathed out.

"Well, it seems you're more interested in finding out than in talking to me."

That brought him back to his senses. "Not at all," he replied, focusing his eyes back onto her delicate features. "You were talking about your summer in France, yes?"

He couldn't afford to ruin the relationship before it had even begun. She was everything he was supposed to look for in a bride: beautiful, rich, well-connected, and pure-blooded. His father would be extremely disappointed if he let her slip away.

**xxx**

Hermione made her way through the crowd with her head slightly lowered, hoping to avoid any conversation with the guests. She didn't see the point in coming to an event for Draco when she had been given explicit instructions to never speak or make eye contact with the Malfoys. As if she needed any more proof of her outsider status, she could feel the press of magic in the air tickling her skin. It was an uncomfortable reminder of how she was the only non-magical being in the room. Sighing, she reached the other side of the room only to realize that the buffet table was empty. A quick glance around showed her that people were eating. Perhaps the elves had yet to finish replenishing the food supply. Her stomach gurgled.

"Don't know what you want yet?" Hermione whirled around to see a lanky boy with lush green eyes and round glasses smiling at her hesitantly.

"Excuse me?"

"The drinks. You don't know what you want yet?"

"Oh, well I don't see anything here."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Well, you have to think it up. Like this." He closed his eyes and a second later, a warm mug of butterbeer appeared in front of him. "Now you try."

She felt a blush creep up her neck. This required magic. How could she keep herself a secret from these people if she couldn't do something as simple as order food? "You know what? I'm not thirsty after all. If you'll excuse me." Mortified, she tried to escape, but his arm came up to gently block her way.

"Is this your first party?" he asked gently. "There's no reason to be embarrassed about not knowing what to do. Here, why don't I get you the same thing I'm having?" Another mug appeared instantly next to his, and he handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the drink and taking a sip. It warmed her up immediately, and she smiled at the boy.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. "What's your name?"

"Hermione."

"Just Hermione?" he asked, amused. She gave a small, helpless shrug. "You certainly are a little mystery, aren't you? Well, it's very nice to meet you, Just Hermione. Why don't you come along with me? I think you'll like the sort of characters I know."

"I certainly wouldn't want to impose," Hermione said, trying to come up with a suitable excuse to slip away.

Harry wouldn't hear it. He took her hand and all but pulled her into the crowd until she stood at a table near the windows that overlooked the gardens. Three people sat there drinking champagne, two of which Hermione immediately deduced were his parents.

"Look here, James. He's found himself a bride already," the handsome man with the warm gray eyes said. "And dressed in red and gold, too. Well done, Harry."

"Be nice, Uncle Sirius," Harry laughed, a little red in the face. "This is Hermione. She was wandering around as lost as a puppy so I brought her here." He turned to Hermione and said, "You're welcome to sit with us for dinner."

"Yes, we insist," the woman said with a smile. "I'm Lily and this is James. This incorrigible flirt is Sirius."

"Charmed, love," Sirius said. He made such a huge production of winking at her and bowing to receive her hand that Hermione burst out laughing. "There now. The ice is broken. It's only proper for you to join us."

Before she knew it, Hermione was chatting it up with Lily over the cause and effects of the Goblin Rebellion, and laughing as James and Sirius reminisced over their many childhood mishaps. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so at ease around a group of magical people. Dinner came and went with Harry ordering her food, and she was now snacking on chilled, sliced pears.

"Oh, this is such a boring party. Why did we have to come?" Sirius bemoaned, hooking an arm over the back of his chair and slouching down like a sulking child.

"The Malfoys are quite an important family. We have to show face, even if we disagree politically with them," Lily responded.

Sirius pouted. "I don't care about that."

"I had to come, so that means you had to come," James said, resting an arm around Lily's chair.

"As usual, I can blame my miseries on you, dear James." Sirius sighed dramatically. "Although, to be fair, I suppose Narcissa is my sister so I have the unfortunate relation to that group of stiffs."

"You're Draco's uncle?" Hermione gasped.

"Please don't go around announcing it." Sirius winced. "I'm trying to forget the whole thing."

Hermione frowned. "He's a good person. I don't think you should judge him so harshly."

"How would you know what he's like?" Harry asked, curiously. "I didn't know you had such a strong relationship with him."

"Oh, well. It's not like that at all," she blustered, twisting her napkin in her lap. "I've just heard good things about him, that's all. He passed his O.W.L.s with extraordinary scores."

"Sweetheart, I don't know where you're getting your information from, but you're missing a huge part of the picture. They are a bigoted bunch of prats," Sirius said, gesturing to Lily. "The only reason they even bothered extending an invitation to Lily is because she married into the Potters."

"_Excuse me_," James said indignantly. "You make it seem as though she was after my money and that's not true at all. She was after my body."

Harry scrunched up his face. "Gross, Dad."

"I maintain that I was held at wand-point all the way to the altar," Lily said solemnly, ignoring James' outraged gasp.

"I'm right though," Sirius continued, looking intently at Hermione. "The Malfoys are obsessed with blood purity. They think they're better than people like Lily because she's Muggleborn! What a vile, ridiculous thing to believe. I can't tolerate such rubbish."

"As you can tell, he's the black sheep in his family," Harry joked.

Hermione, however, was caught up in Sirius' monologue. She turned to Lily with furrowed brows. "You're a Muggleborn?"

Everyone tensed up. James' easy smile faded. His arm moved to wrap around Lily's shoulder, bringing her closer to his side. Lily placed a calming hand over his arm and smiled tightly at Hermione. "Yes, I am."

There was a beat of silence at the table before Hermione was able to gather her thoughts over the roar of questions in her head. "What does that _mean?_"

"Well, you see," Lily said, trying to understand the intent behind the question. "It means that I have two Muggle parents."

"But," Hermione faltered, unable to wrap her head around the idea. "How is that possible? To be magical when you don't have magical blood?"

"Well, no one knows exactly why this happens," Lily explained uncertainly, her brows lowering as confusion crept across her face.

"Hermione," Harry began cautiously. "How do you not know about Muggleborns?"

It was at the tip of her tongue. _Tell them,_ she thought. _Tell them you're Muggle. Lily comes from your world. She'd understand._ For some reason, it was important for her to know more about this phenomenon. Nothing during her time with the Malfoys had suggested that it was possible, and yet here was a woman born extraordinary from ordinary people.

Taking a deep breath, she took a leap of faith. "Well, the truth is that I–"

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. "There you are." She looked up to see Draco frowning down at her. "I've been looking everywhere for you." He turned his attention to the others and gave a curt nod. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter, Uncle Sirius, I hope you all are having a good time, but I must speak with her alone. Come along, Hermione."

Harry, seeing the panic her face, stood and placed a hand on the back of her chair, preventing Hermione from getting up. "Is there a problem, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't take the threat well. "Are you trying to create one?"

"How do you know him, Hermione?" Harry asked, not breaking eye contact with Draco.

"This has nothing to do with you, Potter," Draco said through clenched teeth. "Leave it be."

Hermione recognized the look on Draco's face, the tight line of his clenched jaw and the way his nostrils flared, and placed a calming hand on his wrist. "Really, there is no need for this to get out of hand," she said. She managed to slip out of her seat from the side and stood beside Draco as she addressed the rest of the table. "Thank you all for the lovely company, but I must be on my way."

"Draco," Sirius said, gray eyes scrutinizing his estranged nephew. "What is your connection with this girl?"

"You want to know my connection? I'll tell you what it is." He pulled her against him with a sudden burst of strength. "She's _mine._"

Lily gasped but before anyone could say anything more, Draco pulled Hermione away from the stunned group.

**xxx**

He moved through the crowd with an unyielding grip on her arm, finally stopping when they left the party below and moved into his room.

"Draco, you're hurting me," she said.

"Good," he responded, his voice tight with anger. After locking the door with a quick spell, he turned to face her, his eyes burning with a betrayal she could barely understand. "What were you doing with those people?"

"The Potters? They invited me to sit with them."

"I saw that git lure you over there," Draco said with narrowed eyes. "Don't let his stupid face fool you. My father's told me about those people, _especially_ Sirius. He thinks he's too good for his family, and would rather wallow in the mud with lesser people than be with us. You don't want to associate yourself with their kind."

"_Their kind?_" she repeated incredulously. "You mean Muggleborns? Magical people coming from non-magical people?"

"I see you've been talking to Mrs. Potter," he said in a tone that echoed his father. It made her skin crawl.

"Why is it that I've never heard of this before? Why didn't you tell me that was possible?"

"Possible for what? I don't see how that would concern you. You're just a Muggle. Why would you care about Mudbloods? I certainly don't."

"What did you call Mrs. Potter?"

"Nothing that isn't true."

"You called her Mudblood. That's a bad word, isn't it?"

"Excellent deductive reasoning, Hermione," he drawled with an eye roll. "Look, she comes from impure background. The Potters were one of the few remaining pureblood families left, and she's gone and ruined them now."

"_What does it matter?_" Hermione shouted, feeling her heart race beneath her ribcage. "Who cares about blood? She's not diseased. She's not ruining the family name. She's not any negative thing you think she is."

Draco gave her a pitying look. "You don't understand because you're a Muggle."

"Then _make_ me understand," she growled, standing her ground. "If you feel that way about Muggleborns, then Muggles must be just as bad. Why don't you tell me how you _really_ feel about me?"

"What a ridiculous idea," he scoffed. "Of course I don't think that way about you. First off, you don't have an ounce of magic in you at all. And secondly, you're my friend."

"You always say that, but if this is how you feel about the majority of people who are like me or come from my background, then you'll have to forgive me if I don't believe you."

"I don't care about those other people!" Draco bit out, letting his temper loose on the room. Several crystal vases shattered at the sudden burst of raw magic radiating off of him. "I don't know them, nor do I care to, but you are mine, and I take care of my own. You were put under _my_ protection. You've stayed with me for years. You can't possibly think that I would spend all that time and effort with someone I didn't like."

"If I meant that much to you, then why didn't you say something to your father when he ordered me not make any contact with you or your parents at the party?" she challenged, letting the hurt bleed through her face. "Why didn't you tell me that the food would only come with magic? Why didn't I know where to sit? I only came to this stupid thing because you asked me to be here for you, and you just left me alone."

"That wasn't my decision to make," he said tightly, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side.

"No, those were your father's orders. And we both know you'd never disobey him." The accusation in her eyes cut him deeply. "Harry was kind enough to show me around and introduce me to his family. For the first time, I didn't have to worry about needing to be as quiet as possible around other magical people. I didn't have others pretend that I was invisible. They genuinely liked me."

"_I_ like you," he declared fiercely, heart pounding in his chest. "Don't be fooled for a second that just because the Potters have money that it can ever touch the amount I'll be able to control. I won't let that git take you away from me."

"What does it matter if you like me or not when your father's determined to toss me into the streets?" she shouted, letting years of built-up anxiety spill over. "You've proven time and time again that you won't protect me. What do you think will happen to me when you get married? Do you honestly think your future wife will look upon me favourably? A woman of no magical background who served as her new husband's companion for years?"

"My wife will listen to what I say," he said with a quiet conviction.

"And you are your father's son, so you'll listen to what he says," she countered, tears burning her eyes. "I can't depend on you for protection."

"You know you can," he replied softly, stricken by the sight of her tears.

It hurt that she felt that way. When she looked away, panic threatened to suffocate him. It had grown steadily ever since he'd caught her weaving through the crowd hand in hand with Potter, her body winding around the masses gracefully like a snake, her golden dress shimmering in the light. Pansy had wandered off to the powder room, leaving him free to search for Hermione. Watching her sit with the Potters and his uncle made him angry. Watching her burst out laughing, her red lips parting to reveal a smile for another boy made his fists tremble with barely contained violence.

He wasn't surprised that people enjoyed her company. Despite her Muggle background, he had kept her around because she was a good friend and exceptionally smart. Clearly Potter thought the same way, if the looks he threw at Hermione were any indication. In that moment, with the distance between them, Draco could see Hermione's future. He could see her living a happy life that didn't include him, but could possibly include someone like Harry Potter.

The air had left his body as though someone had struck him in the stomach and his lungs forgot how to reach for air. The loneliness of his earlier years crashed over him, pushing him back into that dark time before Hermione. It galled him that she could possibly be happy without him, whereas he could not imagine a life without her. Even though he was to be engaged soon, he had always thought of giving her a role that would keep her close to him, a nanny to his children, perhaps. He'd never entertained the idea that she would willingly leave him. Watching her with the Potters had been a jarring experience, especially since he knew that family would have no qualms about her being a Muggle. In fact, it had been that thought that had spurred him into action and in record time, he had cut the distance between them and snatched her away from that world she had been enjoying.

And here she was, angry that he wouldn't defend her, doubting his ability to truly care for her.

Carefully pulling her tense body into his arms, Draco held her close, resting his cheek on the crown of her head. "Please don't be mad. You know I'm doing everything I can for you."

"I know you are." Though her voice was muffled against his chest, the tension along her spine and the way her fists gripped his dress robes told him that she was crying. She wasn't sure if his efforts were going to be enough.

Desperate to lift her mood, he shushed her gently. "You cleaned up rather well," he said. "Don't ruin it now by crying."

She chuckled weakly, finally melting into his arms with a familiarity that drove the lonely past away. "What a thing to say." Hermione pulled away, rubbing her face dry and ruining her perfectly applied makeup. It helped settle his heart to see that his Hermione was still there underneath the beautiful façade.

"Stay with me tonight," he said softly.

"You know that's not proper," she said, taken aback.

"I don't care." He reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair, watching it fall out of the elaborate hairstyle. "I just want it to be like before, when we were kids."

A slow smile curved her lips. "We can't go back in time, Draco. Not even magic can do that."

He chuckled indulgently, deciding not to tell her about time-turners and the limitless possibilities of magic. "Go shower and come back when you're ready for bed."

"Always so bossy," Hermione sighed.

Nevertheless, she returned to his room in her pyjamas and crawled under his covers where he waited for her. Draco couldn't stop the huge smile blooming on his face when she lay facing him, her face clean and familiar again.

"How did they ever manage to tame this nest?" he asked, touching her sleek dark hair. Now that it was straight, it seemed to have grown several inches within the past few hours.

She wrinkled her nose. "Hours of patience and a combination of several potions. It was nice, but I doubt I'll do anything like that often. It's such an ordeal." She yawned suddenly, raising a hand to cover her mouth. "Goodnight, Draco." Then, she turned around and sunk into his plush bed.

He settled down on his side of the bed, his body turned toward hers. He gazed at the curve of her spine for ten minutes. The insignificant distance between them made sleep impossible. He reached out and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her against his body. She spared an irritated glance at him over her shoulder, before resettling into his embrace and falling asleep again.

Draco drifted off soon after that, taking comfort in the warm, familiar body pressed against him.

**xxx**

Hermione woke to the crisp smell of early morning air creeping into the room. Sunlight glowed faintly behind the heavy dark curtains hanging over the French windows. She stretched languidly, her arms bumping into a large lump behind her. Bleary-eyed, her hands clumsily touched the body next to her until it twitched and caught her wandering hands.

"What are you doing in my bed?" she asked, voice cracking with sleep. She kicked him when he didn't respond.

He groaned. "It's too early for this."

"Get out of my bed."

He lifted his head. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark to see his sleepy glare. "You're in _my_ bed. Now go back to sleep."

"Oh." She paused, letting that information sink in. "Why am I in your bed? I should go."

He let out a long, frustrated sigh. Suddenly, with a huge burst of speed and strength, he snaked his arms around her and yanked her beneath him, his hips resting between her legs.

"Draco, get off me," she demanded, trying to roll his dead weight off of her.

"You're staying. Now shut up and sleep," Draco mumbled into the crown of her head. He sank deeper against her body, pinning her into the mattress. He was already halfway dreaming.

"I can't breathe," she wheezed, smacking him on the shoulder.

Groaning, he slowly dragged his body down until his head rested on her stomach. That slow rasp of his warm body against hers made something ache inside of her. Instinctively, she clamped her thighs around his stomach and rolled her hips against him once. The ache eased. Breathing out in contentment, she brought a hand to his light-colored hair and smiled when he purred at her touch. Soon, she was fast asleep.

The next time she woke up, the curtains had been pulled back, allowing sunlight to flood the room. Rolling to her side, she saw Draco lying beside her, awake and gently touching her hair. The potions and creams had all worn off, leaving it bushy and thick once more.

"I never thought I'd miss this," he said.

She yawned, rubbing her face. "What are you talking about?"

"You being in my room." A sly smile crossed his face, and he lifted the blanket off her body and looked down. The cool draft immediately hit her, and she shivered.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she complained.

"Just making sure you're not bleeding to death. I don't want you to ruin my good sheets," he teased.

The memory of that event came rushing back to her, and she burst out laughing, hiding her face in the pillows. "I can't believe you brought that up again!"

"I'm dying, Draco! _I'm dying!_" Draco wailed, mimicking her hysterical cries before dissolving into a fit of laughter, too.

She had been thirteen at the time, and screamed one night when she woke up to intense stomach pains and found herself sitting in a blood-soaked bed. Draco had rushed to her side in a panic, asking her where she was wounded as she frantically searched her body for open gashes.

"You thought the same thing!" she protested, turning her head to face him. Her face was flushed with good-natured embarrassment. "You swore at the medic when he said it was perfectly normal for girls to bleed. You even threatened to end his career if he didn't heal me immediately. If only your mother had been around for that charming moment."

"It did sound like a load of rubbish. I thought he was going to let you die because you were Muggle," he explained. The smile on his face faded as he looked intently at her.

"That's silly. How could he have known that about me? If anything, I'm sure he was more curious about why a strange girl was sleeping in your room. Come to think of it, that was when your father decided to put me in the guest room down the hall."

"I was afraid I was going to lose you."

His sincerity caught her by surprise. Last night's events rushed to the forefront of her mind. "Is that what your temper tantrum was about last night, with the Potters and your uncle? You can't go about making a fool of yourself just because you happen to get an idea in your head. You were in no danger of losing me."

He looked at her intently with his silver-gray eyes. "Swear you'll always be by my side," he said quietly.

She smiled, snuggling into the pillow. "Always so demanding."

"Swear it."

"I told you before," she said softly. "It's not up to me whether I stay or I go. I'm afraid that decision is your father's to make."

"Then I'll convince him to let you stay. You won't ever have to worry about being tossed out. This is your home."

She blinked up at him with solemn brown eyes. "Yeah, I'd like that. Talk to your father."

"I will," he insisted, pulling her into his arms. "You'll see."

She held onto him tightly.

They both knew he wouldn't.

**xxx**

Pansy showed up unexpectedly just after lunch, dressed impeccably in dark green silk. Draco steered her into one of sitting rooms and offered her a cup of tea, which she declined.

"I won't stay long," she said. "I stopped by because I wanted to speak with you properly, without any distractions. How is your mother?"

"As well as expected," he replied. "She's resting now. It wasn't a good idea for her to be at the gala last night, but she never shirks her hosting duties."

"As a true head of the household shouldn't," Pansy praised. "However, nothing is worth your health. Perhaps when she is well enough for visitors again, I will press that point with her."

"You can certainly try, but my mother is a stubborn woman," Draco said wryly. "Since you're here, I'd like to apologize for last night. I was attending to a personal matter and did not mean to leave you alone so suddenly."

She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize that girl was a personal matter."

Draco froze for a second, before relaxing and lifting his gaze to hers. "She is a close friend. I was worried she was falling in with the wrong crowd. I saw the Potters hovering around her, and I had to step in."

"Yes, and then you two stepped out for the rest of the celebration." Pansy laughed in amusement. "Do you take me for a fool, Draco?"

"I don't think I understand what you are implying."

"I'm merely here to remind you that we are to be engaged, Draco."

He frowned. "I know that."

"Well, know this then," she said calmly, her dark eyes taking on a hard glint, "I am not one of those stupid, impoverished girls who is so grateful to not be a spinster that she is willing to overlook an unfaithful husband. I come from money and title, which means that, despite my gender, I come from power. You do not want to cross me. I'll allow you your indiscretion last night, but nothing more. If I catch wind of you with other girls, I won't hesitate to end our engagement and any social standing you or those girls may have."

Taken aback by her aggression, Draco cleared his throat. "That's very bold of you, threatening me in my home."

"A lady does not make threats," she said, tilting her chin up. Once again, he was struck by her cool beauty: her delicate bone structure, her dark hair and eyes contrasting sharply with her pale skin. "She merely cautions those around her against brash actions."

What a response. Draco couldn't help but smile. "You'll make a fine Malfoy, Pansy."

"It's why your father chose me," she said, pleased by his comment.

He chuckled. "Nothing happened last night with that girl. You have nothing to worry about."

She studied his face for a moment, before nodding. "You're telling the truth. Good. I will accept nothing less than honesty from you."

"Naturally."

"Well now, I must be off now that we have an understanding."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for tea?"

"Perhaps another time," she said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I have a luncheon to attend, and I must leave now if I am to be fashionably late."

Draco laughed. "Since when it is fashionable to be late? Isn't it rude and a sign of poor manners?"

"Oh Draco," she said, throwing a smile at him over her shoulder as she walked out, "you know nothing about the games we women play."

"I don't see where I would have possibly learned these games, Pansy. The dress shops, perhaps?"

The main doors opened as she approached. Pausing in the doorway, she turned to face him. Sunlight framed the edges of her figure, illuminating the green in her robes and the blue-black quality of her hair, while casting shadows across her face. "Do you play chess, Draco?" she asked.

"From time to time."

"I don't imagine you're particularly good at it. When we are married, I'll teach you how to play it properly."

He frowned. "Why would you think I don't know how to play?"

"Let me ask you this. Which is the most important piece on the board?"

"The King, obviously. The game ends if he is captured."

She laughed, the sound tinkling in the air. "You know nothing, Draco. It's the Queen. When she falls, the game is already decided."

She curtsied and strolled away, the door closing gently behind her.

**xxx**

"Hermione?"

"Hm?" She tilted her head towards the sound of his voice, though she didn't pull her eyes away from the book in her hands.

Draco paused, staring at the chessboard in front of him. "Which piece do you think is the most important one on the board?"

"Well that depends on what you mean by important."

"Huh?"

She sighed, closing her book to look at his lounging figure on the couch, his body spread carelessly over the leather cushions. "Do you mean the most powerful piece? The most useful in strategy formation? The most symbolic?"

Draco mulled it over. Pansy probably meant it in terms of power. "I want to know your answer just from that question. You can interpret it however you want."

"Aren't you in a strange mood?" she teased. "I suppose the obvious answer would be the Queen."

"Not the King?"

She laughed. "The King? That useless piece that everyone has to protect? No, he's only important because he represents the kingdom. The queen is the most powerful piece. It's the one that can conquer the whole board."

"I suppose you're right, though you women _would_ pick the Queen."

She gave him a bored look from the corner of her eyes. "And you men _would_ think the King is the most important, useless as it is."

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry, I misspoke. I meant _boys_." She laughed, putting her book aside and jumping next to him on the couch. "Why are you asking me this anyway?"

He made a noncommittal sound. "Just thinking."

"Careful there. We wouldn't want you to exert yourself," she teased, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa near his waist. He smiled up at her, throwing an arm around her waist. "What piece did you choose?"

"The Queen."

"Liar. You said the King, didn't you?"

"I've never lied a day in my life."

"How are your pants not on fire right now? Or your nose three inches longer?"

He squinted his eyes. "More Muggle sayings?"

"Good, you're learning." Hermione glanced at the board and started to rearrange the pieces, much to their chagrin. "Personally, I think the Pawn is the most important piece."

Draco laughed. "You can't be serious. It has such limited movements! Not to mention, it's the first to die."

"True, but Pawns are also good for strategic planning and cornering your opponent. There are also more pawns than any other piece on the board."

"That's because they're disposable."

"But what if all the Pawns were to band together against the other pieces?" Hermione lifted the board off the table and laid it on his chest. "Who would win this battle?"

Draco looked down and saw that she had placed all the white and black pawns on one side and the remaining white pieces on the other side. "Why didn't you include all of the other pieces together, too?"

"You can't have two ruling pairs in a country. That would be politically unstable," she replied. "The Knights, Rooks, and Bishops are loyal to their own royal couple, whereas the Pawns are used and overlooked in equal measures by the other pieces."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not entertaining this board. This isn't how the game is played."

"You're right. It's not the traditional game where the powerful pieces hide behind the seemingly useless and disposable masses." She gestured grandly to the rows of pawns in front of her. "_This_ board is the stage of the Revolution."

Draco let out a disbelieving laugh. "What a response."

"We're going to defeat your unjust system of power and reclaim the kingdom in the name of the people," she declared, towering over him on her knees.

"I've got a revolutionary in my study." He moved the board off of his chest and placed it back on the table. "Should I be worried?" he asked, gray eyes sparking up at her pleased expression.

"You should. Start sleeping with one eye open."

"I think I'll pass. I happen to know this revolutionary's weakness."

"This revolutionary has no weaknesses!"

In one swift motion, Draco flipped her over until she was underneath him and proceeded to lightly drum his fingers along her sides, causing her to shriek with laughter. "Who's the liar now?" he asked, laughing with her.

She grabbed his hands and pulled them away from her body. He laced their fingers together and wrapped his arms around her.

"I feel like a prisoner," she remarked, twisting her still-captive hands in his.

Draco squeezed her hands, before pulling his arms behind his back, making her hug him in return. "Better?"

She scrunched up her face, as if she were mulling it over. "I suppose I will allow this." She gave him a hearty squeeze before untangling herself from him.

"What a magnanimous response from a revolutionary," he teased, watching her pick back up her book on the Great Wizarding War. "Are you sure you're not a Queen in disguise?"

She tilted her head up dramatically, pretending to take offense to his words. "Of course I am. I'm the Queen of the Revolution," she said, popping an olive into her mouth.

"What a response," he said quietly to himself. As he watched her read, his affection for her swelled inside of him, thrumming a beat that vibrated in his bones.


End file.
